KEY SCRIPTURE: Mark 10:45
For even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.
RELEVANCE
On Friday we met in Lara at 2:30 pm, transferred our suitcases, and then headed for the Spirit of Tasmania, docked in Geelong.
Why?
We are on a ministry trip to Launceston and surrounds, in good old Tassie.
The dock was packed with vehicles of all shapes and sizes ready to board. Biosecurity officers checked car boots and van rear doors to ensure Tasmania's natural products remained free and clear of corrupting nasties. We had nothing to declare and were waved into a special lane. Fortunately, I was in the vehicle with the disabled sticker. We were given priority and treated with exceptional dignity. The workers did a great job of giving us a sense of privilege.
That concession was short-lived as we made our way to our booking. We were to spend the night in the second-class citizens area—the recliners on Level 8—instead of with the elite in the cabins. (Okay,
I've taken a cabin before.) Anyone who has sailed in the scabs-alley recliners knows that choosing them and expecting sleep is a mistake.
We spent the early hours of the evening outside on Level 9, watching the departure in the contrasting combination of cool breeze and diesel fumes. Once our eyes watered sufficiently, we ventured to the Level 7 restaurant to drink coffee, chat, and crack jokes. However, we needed to get to our chairs by 9.30 pm, as we sailed through the 'Heads' at 10 pm. From there, we would be at the mercy of the ocean swell, where the ship rocked and rolled more than in the bay, setting off the inner ear imbalance followed by nausea, and then.....
As providence would have it, we had ocean seats, looking directly over the stern and enjoying the water and seaside town lights behind us. Most of us slept briefly; one didn't sleep at all, and one vomited multiple times.
To keep my nausea under control in the pitch-black sea night, I concentrated, for three and a half hours, on a string of dimmed lights running between the aft deck and the lower deck railing. They were my only long-distance stomach stabiliser.
By the time we disembarked, we felt seedy and strongly desired real sleep.
Our trip involves speaking at several churches and gatherings to encourage people through testimonies, singalongs, and Bible studies.
Tasmania is beautiful in anybody's language, but I always seek to meet beautiful people. I didn't say perfect, just beautiful. And I always find them. They are folk from all walks of life, some loud, some quiet, poor or rich; their standing doesn't matter, as they have wonderful stories of God's goodness, mercy, and love.
The saying, "I just love a good story," fits me. But the stories I love are full of blessings inadvertently poured out on me as I speak with them. People are generally after my testimony, but I like asking questions and fishing the gems out of them. I'm always rewarded.
Everybody has a gem within, making these trips a two-way street of blessing every time. I look forward to every day here, but I must admit I am not overly affectionate about the recliner trip home. I'll keep you posted about the trip and the gems. In the meantime, do you look for the gems in people you speak with? If not, you'll find them.
PRAYER
Dear Lord, I thank you for the opportunity to share with others of your richness and love. I always receive it in return.
Photo by Patrick Robinson
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